


If I Can't Hold Myself

by oceantovre



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute, Depressed Oikawa Tooru, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Iwaizumi Hajime is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sadness, They didn't know each other AU, haikyuu au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 19:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15869979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceantovre/pseuds/oceantovre
Summary: Oikawa Tooru is sad, and all he needs is a savior. Thankfully, help is always closer than it seems.





	If I Can't Hold Myself

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: in this story, Iwaizumi is new to the school so they didn't know each other since childbirth.  
> Also, this is a total vent fic and it really isn't that good. There are probably a lot of mistakes, but I'm just projecting so don't worry about it.

Oikawa Tooru was sad. Not just the normal, ordinary kind where something bad had happened and so he had gradually fallen into sadness. It was the kind of perpetual sadness that hadn’t so much affected him when he was younger, but as he grew older and got into high school became overwhelmingly unbearable. It was the kind of sadness that came out of nowhere and left him feeling exhausted and empty afterward, but somehow nobody ever noticed this happening because everyone else felt perfectly content with letting him go on with his suffering. He couldn’t blame them though, not really. It wasn’t like he had gone up and said to them,  _ Hi, my name is Oikawa Tooru and I fear I suffer from depression, though I suppose we’ll never know since my mother won’t take me to a professional because they aren’t covered by our health insurance.  _

See, since he’d never said that, there was no blame top ut on anyone around him. And it wasn’t like he was completely lonely. Hanamaki, his best friend by default since they were in the same classes and on the same volleyball team, was nice enough and seemed to respect that Oikawa liked to just be alone sometimes. Hanamaki’s boyfriend, Matsukawa, who Oikawa only barely knew, was at the very least somebody that Oikawa could talk to if he as ever anxious in a crowd. But, that was about where it ended. One friend, one acquaintance, and the rest of his time spent in his room, daydreaming about what it would be like for somebody to actually care about him. 

What if would be like if he had a nice, strong boyfriend, who would put his arms around Oikawa and tell him that everything would be okay, and he didn’t need to be so sad. That was another thing too; Oikawa was gay. He had plenty of girls confessing to him, because even he would admit that he was fairly good looking and the facade he put on was endearing enough, but he didn’t want those girls. He just wanted a nice boyfriend, and then maybe he would be alright.  That wouldn’t fix the problem, Oikawa knew, but it would at least make him feel like  _ somebody  _ would care if he were to fall off the face of the Earth. 

But really, as it stood, he didn’t really think that anyone would. He thought about his own death often, in fact it seemed like there wouldn’t be a single day where he didn’t think at least once about slitting his own wrists, or gorging himself on pills, or finding a gun and just letting his brains go flying. It was morbid, and it was wrong, but it was his life. He didn’t really know why he hadn’t just done it yet. Maybe it was because he still had a tiny little shred of hope that some savior would come along and make everything bearable for him. 

If that was going to happen though, he figured it needed to be soon because he could feel himself slowly tipping and tipping and tipping into the place of no return. He thought about it as he walked to school, going automatically to the spot where he sat with Hanamaki every morning. Most things were automatic like that for him. He went to school because he was told to. He did homework because he couldn’t bear to let anyone down. He played volleyball because he was  _ just so good and needed to share that talent, Tooru. _ He did dishes, and cleaned his room, and smiled, and laughed, because that’s what he was  _ expected  _ to do. 

“Good morning,” he muttered as he sat down a few feet away from Hanamaki, who was perched on Matsukawa’s lap with their hands intertwined. It was a cute gesture, one that Oikawa had pictured himself doing with someone he loved. 

“Morning, ‘kawa,” Hanamaki said, leaning back into Matsukawa and turning his head to look at Oikawa as he sat down. “How are you this lovely morning?” 

“I haven’t slept in two days,” Oikawa said, his words completely truthful but said with that certain air of humor that would make people think he was joking. It worked, clearly, as Hanamaki smiled slightly as he turned back away. 

“Don’t tell coach,” Hanamaki joked. “He’ll have a fit if his  _ shining star  _ isn’t in peak condition.” 

Oikawa heard the words, and understood the jab, and then settled back against the brick wall of the school as he felt the burning flood of sadness pour itself over his chest and settle in his lungs. It was something that he expected, and honestly by this point he’d almost grown accustomed to it. 

“I’m just kidding,” Hanamaki said. 

“Of course,” Oikawa replied, forcing a smile onto his face. “I know.” 

And then the bell rang and Oikawa walked to his class alone, throwing careful smiles to anyone in the hallway that called his name. Some were pretty girls, a few were guys, and all of them seemed eager to please him. If only they knew that he was clawing his way out of his own chest, and the light that he showed them was caused by the burning of his own happiness.  When he reached his own class, he felt his heart stop when he saw that  _ someone  _ was  sitting in  _ his  _ seat. He didn’t recognize them, which meant that they must be new. It was a handsome looking boy, whose muscles caused Oikawa to internally drool on the spot. However, that was  _ his  _ seat, and his anxiety disallowed him from being able to sit anywhere else in fear that he would accidentally sit in someone  _ else’s  _ seat. So, he walked up slowly and approached the new boy with a clipped smile.

“Hi,” he said, waiting a moment for the boy to look up.

“Hi?” 

“You’re in my seat,” Oikawa said plainly, this limited social interaction already causing him to feel a little bit disassociated from his own body. Whatever. He was used to it. No big deal. 

The boy looked down at the desk, as if checking for a name tag, then looked back up at Oikawa. 

“Why is it yours?” 

“Because I sit there everyday,” Oikawa explained, succumbing a bit to desperation because the rest of the seats were filling up, and his legs were feeling a little shaky and he  _ wanted to sit down _ . 

“I didn’t know that,” the boy said, looking pensive for a moment. “Sorry.”  

“Aren’t you going to move?” Oikawa asked. 

The boy shrugged, looking a little confused. “Can’t you sit somewhere else? I don’t think it’s a big deal.” 

The words sent another flood of humiliation and sadness shooting through Oikawa’s body, and for a moment it felt like he was going to keel over and die. Instead, he just imagined how nice it would feel to cut nice lines into his arm, and then sat down in the desk that was always empty behind his own. His body felt open and gross, but he was in the middle of school so there was nothing he could do but sit there. 

Oikawa listened patiently to the roll call, waiting to see what the new boy’s name was.

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” 

“Here.”

And he had his answer. 

.

The next time Oikawa encountered Iwaizumi, it was on the way into the gym for Wednesday morning practice. Iwaizumi was sitting on the steps outside the gym, and stood up when he saw Oikawa approaching. 

“Are you Oikawa?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” Oikawa responded. “Why?”

“They said to talk to you about joining volleyball,” Iwaizumi answered. 

“Did you turn in the paperwork?” Oikawa asked, too tired and empty to really care that this new boy joining was going to mess up all of the defenses and patterns and rotations that he had set up for the season. The worst that would happen would be that he had to stay up all night to fix them. 

“Yeah, yesterday,” Iwaizumi responded. 

“Okay,” Oikawa said. “Then I don’t care. Come warm up.” 

“Are you okay, man?” Iwaizumi asked as Oikawa walked past him into the gym. 

“Never been better.” 

.

Two weeks later, and Oikawa had fallen into what was technically a friendship with Iwaizumi. They walked to class together, and Oikawa had found out quickly that Iwaizumi had moved in next door. 

It would be a lie if Oikawa said he didn’t hope that Iwaizumi could be his savior. Oikawa saw those muscles, and the slight freckles on his cheek, and his kindness, and he couldn’t help but hope. 

That was why, when Iwaizumi grew more and more  _ touchy  _ after two months of friendship, Oikawa turned into full on panic mode. Every time Iwaizumi gave him a high five, there was electricity down Oikawa’s spine. Whenever Iwaizumi would come up behind him and put hands on Oikawa’s shoulders while the setter was working, Oikawa would have to coach himself not to react. Oikawa knew it meant nothing. He didn’t even know if Iwaizumi was gay, but slowly he was becoming more sure.

.

“Oikawa?” 

The setter was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling as it felt like his soul had left his body, and he was only aware on a very basic level that his now-boyfriend had walked into his room. 

Oikawa felt a slight pressure on the bed beside him, and felt a hand make it’s way into his hair.

“Tooru?” 

Oikawa wanted to say something. He wanted to able to be normal and just respond to his boyfriend easily, but for some reason, his jaw felt glued shut and it didn’t feel possible to speak. 

“Are you okay?” 

At the very least, Oikawa managed to shake his head. He could see Iwaizumi’s face twist in compassion and confusion, and the first thing that Oikawa thought was that this was nothing like his old fantasies. There was no miracle moment when he felt like he was finally cured of this sadness, and he still felt that dull ache to hurt himself. He had Iwaizumi, and a lot of the time, that was enough to make him feel slightly more sane. 

At least when he had Iwaizumi, he was slightly less alone and there was something to anchor him to the real world. 

“Tooru, please talk to me.”

That pleading voice was so sad, that it actually shook Oikawa out of his mind for a moment, and the hard hinges on his jaw loosened. 

“I want to hurt myself, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa finally spoke, turning his head slightly so that he could make watery eye contact with his boyfriend. The look on Iwaizumi’s face was tragic, settling somewhere between surprise, sympathy, and guilt. Oikawa felt that suffocating guilt and sadness wash over him, because this was something that he had never planned on telling Iwaizumi. But, it had been said and there was no taking it back. 

“T-Tooru,” Iwaizumi started, but Oikawa just forced himself to sit up and put his hand down on Iwaizumi’s leg. 

“It’s okay, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. “It’s been like this for a while. I’m used to it.” 

“N-no. You shouldn’t be- you shouldn’t have to be used to something like that Tooru,” Iwaizumi said, reaching forward carefully and putting his hand shakily on Oikawa’s cheek. “You need to see someone.” 

“My mother won’t let me,” Oikawa said a little sadly. “But it’s okay.” 

“It’s not!” Iwaizumi suddenly yelled, scaring Oikawa a little bit. Iwaizumi could be loud if he needed to be, but he never yelled around Oikawa. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to,” Oikawa admitted. “I don’t know how to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi said, watching as Oikawa slowly shrunk up into a tighter and tighter ball. “It’s okay, Tooru. I can help you, okay?” 

“No, I thought you could,” Oikawa responded, and that far-away look that Iwaizumi hated came back. “I thought if somebody came along that cared about me, I would finally be okay. But I still feel like this, Iwa-chan.” 

“We can try, Tooru. Please, let me try.” 

“It won’t help. I don’t think anything can save me anymore.” 

“I can’t lose you.” 

Oikawa paused at that statement. Perhaps, this is what he had always wanted. Somebody who would care if he was gone. He finally had it, yet he still felt this way. 

“Tooru, please, let me just try to help you,” Iwaizumi said, moving forward so he could tuck Oikawa into his chest like a child. The gesture instantly sent relief through Oikawa. Not enough, but a little. 

“Okay, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. “We can try.” 

. 

“Let me see.” 

A month later, and already Oikawa felt like his life as slowly coming back to him. In bits and pieces, things became clearer and he was drawn out of the sad stupor that he had been stuck in. Iwaizumi had gotten a job to pay for Oikawa to see a therapist, and Oikawa could never repay his boyfriend for that. Oikawa had gotten a job too, at the library, but it barely paid anything. 

“Let me see,” Iwaizumi repeated, drawing Oikawa out of his thoughts. 

“See what, Iwa-chan?” 

Oikawa was playing dumb. Everyday, Iwaizumi asked Oikawa to strip down to boxers so that he could make sure the setter hadn’t hurt himself that day. The entire encounter was completely consensual, and  _ never  _ turned into anything more. They had a healthy sex life, sure, but it never started with Iwaizumi checking over Oikawa’s body for cuts. Unfortunately, today, Oikawa had slipped. He didn’t mean to, really, but he had just seen the razor sitting out on the library counter, where it had been left out after the older librarian lady had opened up a box of books with it. The razor had been shining, looking so tempting, and the other librarian was out. Oikawa had just picked up the blade, brought it to the back room, and let it glide across the skin on the side of his hand, on the backside of the fleshy part of his thumb. The next thing he knew, he was scrambling to the bathroom to clean it up well enough that hopefully Iwaizumi wouldn’t notice because he  _ knew  _ that Iwaizumi was going to be disappointed. Unfortunately, it seemed like now was the time for that disappointment. 

“You know what I want, Oikawa. Come on, it’s late.” 

“Then we can skip it,” Oikawa said. “You know I’m clean.”

“I don’t know that, actually. Until you show me.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Tooru.” 

“You can’t just make me get naked anytime you want, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, his voice raising a bit. 

“You haven’t had a problem until now, Tooru!” 

“Yeah, well now I do, so stop forcing me!” 

“Tooru, what did you do? You’ve never been like this. What did you do?” Iwaizumi’s voice was cracking more as Oikawa watched tears start to burn in the other’s eyes. 

“Nothing,” Oikawa said crossing his arms. He watched Iwaizumi’s gaze flicker down to his hand, eyes widening as they saw the dried blood. 

“Tooru, give me your hand.” 

“No.” 

Iwaizumi stepped forward, using his strength to wrench Oikawa’s hand away from his body. Oikawa tried to hold it close to him, but Iwaizumi was stronger. He pulled Oikawa’s hand out, and analyzed the it for a moment before pulling Oikawa towards the bathroom. 

“Come on, we need to clean this. We can talk about it later.” 

Oikawa was thankful.

.

Years passed, and it wasn’t easy, but there came to be a point when Oikawa finally felt that he was okay. He felt confident in himself, and in his relationship. It was one of the first times in his life where he hadn’t needed to think about hurting himself to get through the day. He was happy, even, though he had spent so long being sad that being happy felt like something else entirely. 

He lived with Iwaizumi, and both of them had graduated from the same university just two years earlier. They had good jobs, and they were happy. 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said one night, as they laid in their shared bed, staring at the skylight above them. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you, alot,” Iwaizumi responded. 

“I love you too.” 

“I’m happy that I got to meet you,” Iwaizumi responded. “I’m glad that you got help.”

Oikawa turned over so that he could look at Iwaizumi. 

“I’m glad I met you, too.” 

It was true too. Oikawa had always thought that he needed a hero, and in a way, he got one. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t the one-hit fix that Oikawa had always assumed he would get, but he was the best thing that Oikawa had ever encountered in his life. Iwaizumi had been a constant, and he hadn’t given up even when he had seen Oikawa on his worst nights. And regardless of how attractive Oikawa was, there was nothing pretty about those nights. They were full of crying and yelling, and sometimes blood. But Iwaizumi hadn’t run away. And for Oikawa, that meant everything. 

Oikawa Tooru might always be sad, on some level. But for now, he had a job he loved, and a boyfriend he loved more, and a life that for once, he finally wanted to live. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments! I love reading them, and I haven't posted in a while so I've missed reading all of your nice words <3


End file.
